Monster Inside Me
by LooksDon'tMakeTheWorldGo'Round
Summary: After suffering years of abuse from his father, his mother just recently passing away, and his best friend/love interest suddenly giving him the cold shoulder how is Duncan supposed to cope with life anymore? M for drugs, language, rape, etc.
1. I Mean Really What's The Point?

**_A/N: Okay, so I've had this story on the website for some time now waiting to publish it, but never got the chance to. My reason for writing such a dark story is because I, presonally, am __beyond __sick of all the fluffy DXC stories. Now, don't get me wrong, I __love __DXC fics, and I am in the making of writing a semi-fluffy story as well, so I guess I can't say I'm 'sick of them,' but I do think I need to shake things up a bit by writing a really...dark and negative DXC storyas well. _**

**_This story is more for the people who want to see a darker, more violent, and negative side of Duncan, instead of the kind hearted 'bad boy' the show and some stories shows him, so it would be nice not to get too many flames because if you don't like the idea please don't bother reading. If there is anything I need to improve on to make this story even better, please feel free to share! If you don't like, __don't read!_**

**_Rated M for scenes including drugs, sexual themes/scenes, and language. I own NOTHING, but the idea of the story._**

**_R&R Enjoy! _**

****

_~ApPeAl2rEaSoN_

* * *

**Chapter 1:**

All my life I've been asking the same question_: 'what's _really_is the point of living?'_ 'Cause when you think about it the world is full of a lot of shitty people that do even shittier things, or at least that's what _I've_ seemed to notice. Other people don't give a _fuck_ about the 'real world' as long as it doesn't affect them; just a bunch of conformists bastards if you ask me, but you didn't now did you. You're probably wondering: '_The fuck's up this kid's ass making him think the world's nothing but a living hell?'_ Well, if you grew up the way I did and lived through all the shit I had to, then maybe you'd see the world a _little_ differently too. A world full of: people using you, lying to you, and just playing old not giving a fuck about you or your existence.

I was the type of kid that lived for causing chaos and suffering to other people. I was the kid that would rather light leaves and shoelaces on fire at recess then join with the group and play ring-around-the-fucking-rosie. I'm the kid who would make your parents beat the livin' shit if you went within ten feet of me at school, but like I cared. Friends were for people who couldn't fend for themselves, who needed someone help them make every pathetic decision of their life. That's what my dad used to tell me, not like I gave a fuck 'bout what he had to say, but that I learned I _had _to.

To me life wasn't worth living, but there was always one person to help me get through each day. She was the reason I would wake up some mornings and decide to put the joint down for the day; okay more like _act _like I put the joint down for the day. She was the most beautiful girl you would ever lay your eyes on. She had sexiest mocha hair, and not just 'mocha,' but the color that when the light reflects off of it you could see just the smallest bit of natural blondehighlights. She had big beautiful onyx eyes, which I know don't sound so great, but they showed so much emotion, so much personality. Her skin was flawless. It was a much darker shadethenmine, but I'm just about as pale as a baby's ass, so that doesn't say much. It was the kind of skin that a dude would kill to feel up all day, trust me the thought _has_ passed my mind before, but not like it would or _could _ever happen 'cause she was the farthest thing away from a girlfriend to me. She was Courtney, _my_ Princess, _my _best friend, and I know that you're probably thinkin' I'm sick for fantasising about 'getting with' my best friend, but she was everything I wasn't, which just made me want her more.

"Duncan?" I groaned 'cause I wasn't the biggest fan of being waken up for no reason especially when I _was _getting sleep. I had just recently been diagnosed with a chronic insomnia that apparently I've had all my lide, but it didn't become much of a problem until just recently, so sleep and me weren't the best of friends. I grunted and shifted my position hoping, _praying_ I would be able to fall back asleep again.

"Duncan, wake up," She began raising her voice at me. Not in a pissed off way, but in a I've-got-better-things-to-do way.

"Fuck off," I threatened groggily pulling a pillow over my head which was soon thrown off. I could tell she was starting to become impatient when I felt her start shaking my body. Jesus Christ what does it take to get some fucking sleep in your own room?

" Duncan, you _need _to get up. It's almost seven." _In the morning? Great, another sleepless night considering I got home around five this morning from the usual nights worth of party, drinking, and causing trouble._ "Come on, you've got a meeting in like, fifteen minutes." she stopped shaking me for a minute. "Jesus, I _knew _I should have waken you up earlier..." she huffed.

A meeting? Whoop de fuckin' do. _That _was what they called my therapy appointment, which thrust me wasn't what you'd expect. I wasn't no nice, expensive, big ass office with stain glass windows and huge ass leather couches that you could just sit in all day and talk about your pussy ass feelings. It was more like…a solitary confinement center. It was a large, empty room with absolutely no windows and four doors that were _always _locked, and during every meeting I always would sit and think of what might hide behind those doors while I was sitting across the room from some chick who made way too much money for the shitty job she was doing with me.

You were there because you're life was so out of control that your family couldn't keep track of you, so every week, or in my case every three days you would end up there so your family knew all about what you did behind their backs. The professional told me I needed to be examined twice a week 'cause I was so bad assed and fucked up, and it's _not _something to be proud of either. The only people who went were the most fucked up of the fucked up: ex-cons, rapists, rapees, bulimics, druggies, alcoholics, suicide victims, emos, the list goes on and on. And it wasn't no trip to the damn park either, you wouldn't be allowed to leave until they got something outta you that they could rat to your folks about. Hell, if you weren't smart like _me_ you could be there all day, eventually you learn to just make up shit to please them.

"Did you hear me? We have to be ready to leave in fifteen minutes! Get your punk ass up!" She started to scream while shaking me now with _all _her might. She must have moved to the other side of the bed cause when I opened an eye there she stood glaring down at me.

_'She'_ was Leigh Ann, my mother's whore of a little sister who's had custody over me for the past few months now. _She _was in her early thirties, but looked like she could pass for my girlfriend 'cause she was wayyytoo fuckin' immature for her age, and _trust _me that means a lot coming from me, and by immature I don't mean all she liked to do was look up _penis _or _vagina _in the dictionary she kept in our, er, _her _kitchen, but she _did _like to get with them. She had admitted to me when I first moved in that she was openly bi, which I guess isn't so bad (in my opinion it's kinda hot) unless you have to deal with her bring home some dudeor chick daily and banging them. That's half the reason I'm never home. She dressed like a sixteen year old too, she would tight ass tops and cootch hugger shorts she seriously needed to get with reality. She stood about five foot two, a little over half a foot shorter than me; she had dirty blonde hair, and bright blue eyes just like my mom's (must be where I picked them up from) that were staring daggers at me.

"Get up," she demanded ripping the sheets clean off me revealing my badly beaten torso, which sent a sudden chill down my spine. "I'm _not _telling you again!" She spat refusing to have her eyes meet my bare chest.

"Fine," I groaned "I'm up _okay_, now please, feel free to get the sand outta you're vag," I bitched while hopping outta bed, grabbing my phone off my night stand, and slamming the bathroom door behind me.

I sat on the bathroom floor propped against the door, waiting until I heard her footsteps lead out my bedroom, so as I waited I glanced at my phone seeing I had a new voicemail.

"_Great." _I spat flipping my phone open only knowing it could be anyone calling for any reason. I let the voicemail pick up and held the cold plastic object against the side of my face.

"_You have one new message." _It said in a machine operated voice until a very familiar and pissed voice followed. "_Duncan, it's Courtney, and I'm telling you this as a warning. You better stop drunk or stoned or whatever you currently are calling me, and I'm not happy what-so-ever at the vial and explicit voicemails you are leaving me at...3:48 in the morning because believe it or not _some _people are actually _able _to sleep at night, and _don't _want to be disturbed. i.e. _me!_ Keep it up and I _will_ take drastic action. You have been warned_." She spat before hanging up. Inrraged, I quickly shut the shitty peice of plasic in one the other gripping my unruly hair, let out a loud scream filled with mixed emotions, and chucked it into the shower not caring if I broke it or not.

I immeditaly got on my knees, crawling over to the sink, opening the cabinet door, andfeeling aroundfor a tiny plastic bag that I pulled out from the back of the cabinet that I hid in a band-aid box, and smiled looking my hidden stash full of Meth. _What, I haven't been hooked up since I got home around I was _defiantly _due for another hit._

I tossed the bag on top of the counter, slowly anduneasily lifted myself off the ground, grabbing the razor that lay on the counter in my hand. I opened the tiny bag, dumping the Speed on to the counter top, and started crushing it up with the tip of the blade. Anxious to get it in my system I sliced the blade into my skin letting out a loud yelp. I quickly examined my finger and began sucking it to keep my blood out of the way of my hit, continuing to crush the Meth. I neatly cut a line of it, tossed the razor in the sink, placed my face up against the counter top, smashing my forehead against it, and inhale in all the speed at once.

An instant feeling of alertness shot through my body as if seconds ago I was never tired. My hands began to tremble, and I began to feel lightheaded. To me being stoned was the best feeling in the world. I quickly gripped on to the edge of the counter to prevent falling on my ass, and looked at my reflection in the mirror that hung above the sink. Now looking back on it I guess saying that I looked like shit was an understatement.

My already pale skin was an unusual, unhealthy lookin' shade of white except for the multiple shades of bruises that covered my torso, my eyes were dilated and had what seemed like dozens of bags under them, once a 'beautiful' shade of blue were so badly bloodshot that they were a shade of red that even _I _haven't seen before, my hair, my famous trademark, laid limp, the green dye beginning to fade out now only at the tip of my hair, which was also in bad need of a haircut, and I needed to shave badly having a dark, scruffy five o' clock shadow making me look at _least _five years older.

I stood there wondering if this was how I looked on a daily basis. I mean I never really was the guy to brag about his appearance, but I wasn't a bad lookin' kid especially my body. I might have grown up being 'the runt of the litter,' but I always made up for it by being one of the most fit too.

Not only was my personal appearance awful to look at, but my physical appearance was pretty pathetic too. Muscles I had spent years trying to build just seemed to disappear in the matter of a few months. Now I finally understood why Princess refused to be seen with me in public anymore, but not like I cared I didn't have to look at myself every minute of the day, and that's when I noticed that not only was criticizing my appearance in the mirror faggish, but it was also _really _weird, so I snapped out of my stoned daze and stumbled to the bathroom door, remembering about my phone and nearly diving for it now located at the bottom of the shower, picked it up, and walked back to the door, phone in hand nearly tripping on my own feet before fumbling at the knob taking what seemed like hours to get open.

The Meth quickly wore off to a point where I felt like shittier than I did moments ago. I stumbled to my closet, which was a wreck covered with holes, and filthy, wrinkled clothes. I stood there clueless for a minute before I threw on a pair of ripped, baggy jeans, my usual red chucks, and usual black skull shirt when I finally noticed the gashes on my wrists had almost completely healed from my last drunken tantrum. Since I was already stoned I figured it would be the best time to try to pull off a stunt like cuttin' without wanting to cause scene, but of course I was wrong. I brought the blade of the pocketknife up to my wrists, pressed it down the bare skin with blade, and watched the skin break and fill with red, slowly it leaked down my arm, droplets falling to the floor. That was when I realized it hurt like hell, gripping on to my wrists, my knees drop to the ground, a blood-curdling scream escaping my mouth.

"Ahh! Mother _fucker!_" I cussed. As if the pain wasn't enough to bare the stoned stupor cause instant nausea to strike me as soon as I saw the blood gushing through my fingers. I rushed to the bathroom, not bothering to close the door behind me this time, leaning over the toilet puking out everything _if _anything I had eating in the past few days. When I finished I leaned up against the toilet, my blood all over the seat, the floor, and myself. I eventually found a way to pull myself together feeling like shit, head pounding, wrists burning, stomach churning. I staggered out of the bathroom wanting to throw up again, but was able to throw on a black hoodie, which was able to cover the massacre of blood splattered across my shirt, and made my way upstairs.

My aunt, who was stuffing her pig ass face with food greeted me, like usual. God only knows how she can eat like that and still manage to fit in her tiny clothes.

"There you are. What took you so long? I thought only _girls_ took _that _long get ready," she joked. Too bad I didn't find it the least bit funny since I was stoned and sick to my stomach. Her smile soon turned to a frown.

"You okay? You look like crap," she asked.

"Yeah, just _peachy,_" I said taking a seat the kitchen table (not bothering to eat), and smashing my forehead against the hard surface, which caused an even bigger migraine.

She was silent a minute like she didn't wanna speak another word to me, I wouldn't blame her.

"You're stoned aren't you?" She asked her tone serious now.

"Nope," I lied, but she knew because within seconds she was reaching across the kitchen table, grabbing my by the hair, and looked me right in the eyes inches away from my face. I immediately closed my eyes and turned my head away from her. "Yo, what's your damage?" I spat.

"I knew it." She hissed rolling her eyes, and letting go of the grip on my head making my head slam on the table again. "God _dammit _Duncan," she spat slamming her fists onto the table going from annoyed to enraged. "There is one rule, _one rule! No_drugs in my house!" She pointed her bony finger at me.

"Yah," I paused. "Well, you're doin' a _great _job at it too." I hiccuped getting up from the table.

"Yeah, well by the end of the day I'll have done an _outstanding _job considering I'm going through every square inch of this house cleaning out _everything! _She spat.

"Ha, good luck." I laughed stopping in my tracks. "Believe it or not sweetheart you're _not _gonna find nothing_."_ I slurred inches away from her face.

"Yeah? You really think ther _band-aid _box is such a great hiding place?" She grinned like she's beaten me. "I hope you enjoyed that last hit of yours 'cause you're _done." _She spat in my face. I shot her a death glare, and maybe it was the drugs in my system, but I snapped, lunging at her. She quickly ducked and I ended up smashing my face into the island in the middle of the kitchen.

"You fuckin' _bitch_," I braked shoving her against the wall holding my now busted open lip and bloody nose with one hand, and bringing my other into a fist, swinging it at her inches away from giving her what she deserved, but something stopped me from proceeding. I looked at her terrified body cringing on the floor against the wall. I saw how powerless she was, how harmless she looked, how much she resembled my mother. I brought my hand down to my side and I'm not sure if it was from the drugs or the fact that I _actually _felt bad, but I could have sworn I felt hot tears run down my face.

After all I put her through she still managed to get up off the ground and try to comfort me, and bring me into a hug, but I easily shoved her out of my way, and brushed past her. She stood alone in the kitchen now concerned, calling after me. I threw open the garage door nearly ripping the it off the hinges hoping it would get me farther away from her quicker, locked the door behind me so she couldn't come to comfort me again, ran over to the car, jumping over the hood, opening the passenger door, and locking myself inside, my head resting against the airbag with my face cupped in my hands, allowing a loud sob to escape my throat.

* * *

_**A/N: Well, there you go just a taste of what's to come. Should I continue, or stop now I have the chance?**_

_**Review!**_


	2. Intesne Therapy Is Pretty Intense

**A/N: Well, here's chapter two. I'm trying to make each chapter more and more brutal, and I thought this chapter was pretty dark enough, so read, review, and enjoy.**

**Rated M for strong language, and scenes including drugs.**

**~ApPeAl2rEaSoN**

* * *

**Chapter 2:**

My eyes shot open slamming into the airbag holder in the front of the car. Rubbing my forehead I looked around seeing I was still in the now moving car heading along the back roads. I sighed before looking over at my aunt looking surprisingly calm focusing on the road ahead of her too bad she was never much of a good driver.

"Glad to see you're finally awake..."she bitched. Rolling my eyes I turned my body in the opposite direction, so I didn't have to look at her when I noticed in the rear view mirror dried blood covered half my face sending and intense amount of nausea quickly through my body again.

"Stop," I cried.

She immediately looked over at me. "What?"

"Pull over," I cried again holding one hand to my gut, and the other over my mouth.

"Why?" She asked looking annoyed.

"God dammit, don't ask me why just fuckin' pull _over_!" I spat. She did as she was told, and pulled over to the side of the road. I jumped out of the car noticing I wasn't even buckled, and threw up again, but this time was much worse than the first, I _literally_ puked my guts out I still remember feeling so empty so weak afterwards. My hands were trembling and even though I had nothing left to throw up I continued to dry heave until I had found myself kneeling one hand on my stomach, the other on the ground, my face a foot away from my own vomit. I sat like that for a while continuing to cough up and dry heave what looked like blood. Fuck man, either I was still _really _stoned, I was dying…or both.

When I was finally able to stand back up, which took numerous trys I wiped the new blood and vomit from my mouth feeling like I was about to pass out, the world spinning around me, my feet unable to move in a straight line. I slowly shuffled over to the car gripping on to it tightly so I wouldn't pass out and bust my head open against the door, and slowly got into the front sat, again not bothering to buckle, resting my head in my hands that were now propped on my knees. My aunt stared wide-eyed at me like she'd never seen a kid sick before, or sick from taking an extremely high amount of _speed, _which for some reason really pissed me off.

"A-are you okay?" She asked seeming worried.

"Just drive," I moaned.

"Duncan-"

"Just. _D__rive._" I shouted over her not sure where we were going, resting my head back in my hand. She stared at me worried for another minute then put the keys back in ignition continuing to drive down the back roads.

The rest of the drive was silent. No one even bothered to turn on the stereo to drown out the awkwardness between us, _me _wanting nothing more than to get out of the car and attempt to get some type of sleep. With my head pounding I groaned when I noticed that we eventually pulled into a semi-large parking lot that even in a stupor I easily recognized as the town community center, which was where I went to my therapy sessions twice a week.

"_Fuck._" I groaned under my breath.

My aunt unbuckled her seat belt and spoke out loud as she got out of the car. "In case you're unaware, I didn't forget, and don't just think because you had a little mental breakdown earlier you were getting out of this. A matter of fact...this gives you even more of a reason to go." She mocked.

"_Really?"_ I spat sarcastically continuing to cuss under my breath. I slowly got out of my seat not wanting to re-live my experience on the side of the road again, and slowly drug my feet behind my aunt into the building. Neither one of us talked to each other the whole ride up the elevator.

When we entered the waiting room I moved to the side of the room _farthest _away from all the other losers that inhabited it, and slowly sat down in a cheep lounge chair hissing in pain from the pressure I was putting on my wrists. Once I had finally managed to sit down I examined the room looking back and forth at the freaks the swarmed around me. Most of them looked mental, but hey, I really can't say much on that topic considering I was pretty fucked up too. My eyes finally allowed me to glance up at my aunt who was currently at the receptionists desk signing me in. When she was finished she quickly brushed by me and took a seat on the opposite side of the room.

"_Bitch_," I hissed under my breath.

"I hope you don't mean me," I jumped from my seat now facing a skinny, pale, chick with short black hair that had teal highlights, her eyes were a darker shade of black then her black lipstick, to no surprise she was dressed in full black, and had a 'friendly' smile plastered on her face that was somewhat sexy and annoying at the same time. Personally, she struck me as a typical goth chick, a pessimist, you know 'the glass is half empty' instead of 'half full' shit. No doubt I would _love_ to get in her pants, and you know having a girlfriend and having a thing for my best friend wouldn't stop me from doing so. Damn, I really was fucked up. I flashed a small smile at her.

"Not at the moment," I teased trying to cover up the sick feeling that was overpowering me.

"Cute." She rolled her eyes.

"Well, actually I prefer hot, sexy, _stud-_like," I continued to flirt.

Mhmm, so you gotta name Champ? _Champ? What was I, a five year old?_

"Duncan." I furrowed my brows at her.

"Gwen," she said extending a hand I grasped it and shook it firmly. "Damn dude, you look like hell." She told me, and that was when the feeling of nausea shot back at me.

"Gee, thanks that's all I need to hear," I told her holding my stomach.

"Sorry man, it's just you don't look at that 'hot,'" she giggled.

"Yah, tell me about it," I replied looking straight forward. "So you new or something? Never seen ya around before."

She sighed. "Sadly, yah, I'm new. Got any tips?"

"Don't give 'em anything they wanna know.

She stared at me confused before asking "What?"" right before the receptionist called her name. "Well, it looks like I'm up."

"Good luck sweetheart," I warned.

"Thanks," she said rummaging through her bag taking out a pen and began writing on my hand. "Give me a call sometime Duncan_._" She winked walking towards the receptionist. Leaving me alone in the waiting room with a warm expression on my face and a slight boner.

It wasn't much longer after that my name was called and I strolled into my usual room in the back. I walked in and found it completely empty, so I plopped down on the huge leather couch, upsetting my stomach again, took out my pocketknife and began cleaning the blood and left over Meth off of it. Moments later the door shot open and my therapist walked in, a short, fat woman with the highest damn voice that you could possibly imagine. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if she turned out to be Alvin and the Chipmunk's baby mama. I immediately put my knife back in my pocket, and wiped off any remaining blood from my face before she began rambling on.

"Mr. Lacroix, nice to finally see you've shown up this time," she teased because I haven't showed up to a meeting for the past month instead, I've been out getting stoned, or drunk.

"Yeah, well, you know I just couldn't stay away from you _Janet_." She glared at me hating to be called by her first name _especially _by me.

"Good thing _Mr_. Lacroix_, _we have quite a bit of catching up to do. Great, this was going to be a looongday. So, how have you been since we talked last, anything new?"

"Oh, I've been just _great _thanks. You know the past month instead of coming here I've been walkin' lil' old ladies cross the street, helpin' girl scouts sell there _delicious _cookies, helping out at the near by pet shelter to help those sweet abused puppies get the loving homes they deserve." I spat sarcastically not even bothering to sound legit, which made her look like she was about to damn me to hell. She wrote something down on her clipboard probably something like 'smart ass' or 'hates puppies,' but I mentally laughed at thought of it 'cause they were both true.

"Are you feeling well? You don't look too good." She asked.

"Yah man, I feel like shit."

"I see that. You honestly look like you're about to give out. Is everything okay at home? How are you coping with the insomnia?"

"Saying everything was fine would be an understatement..." I muttered.

"Mhmm, and what do you mean by that?"

"Everything at home is just peachy me and my whore aunt spend every waking minute together. We go to the movies, shop, even play _Monopoly...w_hat the fuck do you _think _I mean? It sucks dick."

"Uhh huhhh..." She said writing something else down on her clipboard. "And how do you feel about that?"

I glared at her for a breif second before answering. "..._pissed_. You know Janet, that could be part of the reason I'm _here!" _I yelled throwing my arms in the air.

"Honey, there's no need to get upset. Use your words."

"Use my-what the fuck do you think this is? _Super Nanny? _Do I look like a mother fucking five year old to you? I spat standing up from the couch ignoring the sick feeling in my stomach now _enraged_.

"Duncan," She said her toned completely changed. "you need to calm down." She instructed towards me getting out of her seat and walking over to me.

"_Don't _you fucking _touch _me!" I exclaimed backing up from her with my hands still in the air.

"Just take a seat and we'll talk this out. What's bothering you? Is it your aunt, your-your school, friends, how about that girlfriend of yours what was her name, Heather?"

"No, no! Shut the fuck up!" I screamed my rage now taking over causing my to slam my fist into the wall nearest to me leaving a large hole, and my hand feeling broken. I screamed in pain before I did the same thing again.

"I-is this caused by something more repressed? Does this have to do with your mother? Your father?" Hearing those words snapped my heart in half, and my sanity along with it. Tears now streaming down my face I screamed before I turned to a nearby shelf, and tipped it over destroying it along with everything on it.

"Don't you _ever _mention him to me _ever!" _I exclaimed walking over to her, and pulling out my pocketknife holding it up to her as a threat. I was now breathing heavy, sweating drenching my body, and nausea rushing through my veins once more.

"Sweetie" she cooed. "Please, put that down." She instructed calmly trying to reach for the knife in my hand, but before she had the chance to grab it I pulled back.

"You want it?" I sneered. "Than _take it." _I spat throwing it across the room into one of her large mirrors watching it shatter into pieces before me. She stood there in awestruck as I brushed passed her and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" She asked concerned snapping from her daze. "We still have fourty-five minutes left!"

"I'm fuckin' _done _here man." I told her flinging open the door and stomping out.

"But Duncan-"

"No! Just…just shut the fuck up!." I spat turning around to face her causing a scene in the lobby.

"Duncan, you can't run from your fears forever!" She shouted after me as I started to make my getaway again. Her voice making me cringe now had me running through the lobby wiping the tears from my eyes. God, I felt like such a _pussy_ crying in public. When you cried it showed you were weak something I _knew_ I wasn't.

As soon as I passed my aunt she jumped from her seat jogging after me calling my name over repeatedly. I didn't want to deal with waiting for the elevator to come thinking it would give her enough time to catch up with me demanding an explanation, so I decided to take the stairs. As soon I made it down all five flights of stairs I spotted my aunt waiting for me in the lobby. I cussed under my breath thinking that I should have known the elevator was faster than my feet.

Hopping to sneak past her I bolted for the lobby door, but she blocked the exit door so I couldn't escape. I threatened to knock her on her ass if she didn't move out of my way, but unlike this morning she was determined to win this battle. She grabbed me by the shoulders, so I was forced to look at her.

"What. _Happened_?" She asked. I didn't respond. "_Duncan_," She shouted. "What's the matter? What _happened_ in there? I could hear you two from the lobby!" She told me, but now I was shaking and sweating even worse that before feeling the nausea all over again. "Duncan, God dammit!" She said again, but this time with more force and began to shake my shoulders. I tore out of her grip nearly knocking her to the ground

"I'm _never _coming back her again." I barely choked not sure if I would be able to keep the vomit down, shoving her out of my way, and dashing out of the building.

I ran out of the parking lot and didn't stop. Not for anything whether I felt the need to throw up or pass out I kept going wanting to get as far away from this hell hole as possible. When I finally came to a stop on the side of the road after about a mile or two of running I took a cigarette out of my pocket lighting it up as I pulled out my phone when I felt it vibrate. Surprisingly, it was a text from Court. It read:

_Ur aunt just called. WTF happend! R u ok?_

_~Coutrney_

"Great, just _fuckin' _great, I huffed, blowing smoke into the air, placing the cig back in my mouth. I didn't bother writing her back knowing I would only make things worse, like always.

I decided that I needed another hit and knew my aunt had probably given up on searching for me by now so I decided I would hitch hike into town. I stuck my thumb out walking along the side of the deserted highway with my cigarette still in my mouth hoping someone would drive by, happy to take me downtown.

I looked back when I heard the sound of a horn behind me. I turned around hoping to see some dude offering me a ride, but instead my aunt in her beat up ford was approaching me.

"Mother _fucker_," I whispered. She drove up right next to me and rolled down the window although I continued to keep walking, my thumb still sticking out over the road, cigarette still in my mouth, facing forward like she wasn't even there.

"Duncan, get in," she said.

"Fuck off," I told her.

"I'm not kidding."

"I know you're not."

"I swear to God if you don't get in this car-"

"Then what? Huh, what are _you _gonna do _me?" _I asked challenging her taking a long drag at my cigarette, _still _extending my thumb out.

"I'll be done with you _that's _what!" She shouted. "You hear me you'll be outta _my _house, and living on the streets with those bums you think it's cool to be around" She spat. "Cause we know your little girlfriend's parents won't let you live with them, and Courtney sure as hell wont, we don't have any nearby relative, so who does that leave? Your _father? _Because I think we both know he'll take _real _good care of you."

I stopped and turned to face her my brows furrowed, and my cigarette now in my hand against my thigh. There were so many things I wanted to do at the moment, but instead of unleashing my anger on the only person that was still _dumb_ enough to care for me I opened the car door and took a seat next to her, slamming the door as hard as I could behind me causing the car to shake.

The car ride home was long and awkward 'cause I was still pissed at what she had the balls to say to me back on the highway and she was probably just pissed at me period.

"Duncan," she finally said. "Look, about what happend back at the office. Do you wanna…y-you know...talk about it?" Great, now she was playing the _good _cop?.

"No." I said staring out the window trying to avoid her eyes taking another drag of my cigarette. She breathed in a deep sigh.

"You know I'm not stupid right? I know you want to talk about this you're...just scared." _All right, that was it!_

I spat taking the cigarette outta my mouth. I'm not _scared _of anything! I don't need your shit trying to sound like you know how _I'm _feeling! You think that just because you've been living with me for a few months now you know _everything _about me. Well, news flash bitch, you _don't,_ so why get a mother fuckin' life, so you can stay the _hell _outta mine!" I was so infuriated I just wanted to make her feel as shitty as I did, which trust me, took a lot.

She turned back to the road letting the smallest amount of tears run down her cheek, and tried as hard as she could to pretend I wasn't sitting next to her. '_How do you know?' _You're probably wondering well, lets just say that's how she always seems to think around me, and when it happens so much you kinda starts recognizing the signs. I mentally sighed. Sometimes I just really wished I were born mute.

"Stop the car," I finally said. She turned back over to me wiping the remaining tears from her face.

"W-what?"

"Stop the car. I'm getting out." I said gripping the door.

"No you're not." She seemed pissed, but who could blame her.

"Quit the bullshit you know just as well as I that you want nothing to do with me, so do yourself a favor and open the fuckin' door!"

"You know what _Duncan?_" She spat my name like it was some kind of disease. "In case you haven't noticed, but I _am _in charge of you now that your mother's gone! And I don't know where you get off thinking you're some kind of God in _my _house and how you can treat me like shit! Because-" I stopped listening to her the second I remembered I figured out how to undo the 'child lock' she set on my car door last month. I started fiddling with it, unable to hear anything that she had to say. When I hear a click in the door a satisfied grin rose across my face and I looked over my shoulder speaking aloud.

"Yah, well, too bad I'm finished listening to _you_ bitch." With that crude comment, I pushed open the door and did a tuck-and-roll move, tumbling onto the small highway. I quickly glanced all around me, trying to find the easiest way to avoid the fast pacing cars swerving past me (of course, why couldn't all these cars be around a half hour ago). I finally found a gap in the traffic and leaped to safety in the median along the highway. I looked down the road and saw her car speeding off wondering if she even noticed I had made my escape, or if she was just happy to be rid of me.

* * *

**_A/N: Well, there you go. Review!_**


	3. Never Trust A Damn Gas Station Manager

_**A/N: Alright, well, here's chapter 3. Let the burtality continue!**_

**_Italics show when a flasback starts and finishes._**

_**Rated M for sences involving drugs, and strong language.**_

_**R&R and Enjoy!**_

_**~ApPeAl2rEaSoN**_

* * *

**Chapter 3:**

I stood there dumbfounded. _How could she just __**drive**__ off like that? _I wondered, but brushed off the feeling, lifted myself off the ground, lit another cigarette to my mouth, and started to walk downtown since I was a lot closer now, close enough that I didn't even need a ride. I checked my wallet when I started see familiar buildings come into view and noticed I had only $20 left on me. With my luck it should be just enough to get a buzz that will _at least_ last me until I got home.

Once I got to the intersection between the gas station and the old pawnshop I crossed the empty street not bothering to wait for any slow moving vehicles. If they really wanted to get somewhere they could and _would _wait for me I made my way over to the gas station across the street, which was always lurking with drug dealers, how do I know? Well, that's cause I was a regular costumer. I walked over to a familiar dealer leanin' up against his 4x4 keeping my eye out for any cops (God knows I should run into one of them my ass will be thrown back into the slammer in no time). When I approached him neither one of us made eye contact to each other.

"So," he sniffed. "You need hooked up?"

"Yeah man," I nearly begged. "I only got $20 on me though." I told him as he snatched the bill out of my hand and stuffed it in his pocket protector (how queer right?), and started going through the bag in the back of his truck.

"No problem," he said when he emerged he handed me a small plastic bag still avoiding eye contact with me. "This should do ya good." I grabbed the bag outta his hand almost too eagerly.

"Thanks man," I said making sure to check if anyone had seen our exchanged and when I saw we were alone I dashed into the gas station, which was thankfully only fifty feet behind us. I burst trough the doors and ran to the back where the bathrooms were. I must have alerted the manager 'cause she called after me.

"Woah! You okay kid?" She shouted.

"Yea just gotta piss _really _bad!" I yelled back at her stuffing the bag down my hoodie. As soon as I slammed the bathroom door behind me I check under every stall to make sure I was alone, and once I was I began removing my hoodie and belt tying it around my weak, scared, bicep so tightly it almost instantly started turning purple from the lack of circulation. I took the syringe and lighter that I always kept handy in my pocket out, and started the burn whatever the hell it was that I bought from that douche, which took twice as long as I wanted 'cause my lighter was starting to run outta juice. _Note to self: buy a new lighter_.

In no time I was smacking my bicep trying to find a decent vein to inject into, and jamming the needle through my skin surprised it didn't puncture through my whole arm, pressing down on the syringe now being able to feel the warm liquid coursing through my veins.

Man let me let me just stop and tell you shooting up is the best feeling in the fuckin' world. As soon as that needle hits you vein it-it's like…floatin' on a cloud or flying or something man…it's almost as great hell, maybe even better than an orgasm. I breathed in a deep satisfying breath and slid to the ground letting the drugs take over my system.

I sat on the filthy ground in front of the bathroom door soaking up the high feeling for what seemed like hours until I was finally able to get off the nasty ass floor, and clean myself up glad this hit didn't make me as nauseous, and stumble out of the bathroom with manger staring daggers at me.

"I thought you had to '_piss_'?" She asked. "You've been in there for like 40 minutes. What are you up to?" _Had I really been in there that long? _She glared at me suspicious of me using her place of business to get baked in since I have in the past.

"N-nothing," I said fumbling that one simple word. "I-uh…kidney stone, real bad, _ow_," I moaned griping my dick in one hand and trying to find the door handle with my other.

"Yah, sure kid. Now get the hell outta my store. I don't wanna see your _face_ around here again." She bitched causing a scene obviously on to me knowing I could run her outta business, but like I cared I was so stoned I barely knew where I was let alone cared if some chick knew I was using her bathroom to shoot up in.

I should've known I was in deep shit too 'cause the second I was out of the store I felt my face being thrown into the glass window by some douche. The bitch who ran the store was walking out of the door with a pissed look on her face.

"Get him out of here!" She spat. "I'm sick of this kid getting hammered in my store. Do you know how bad this makes _me _look? I don't want to see his face around here again, matter of fact I want a _restraining _order on him, and so help me God, if I see him around here again I will sue both your asses!" She complained.

"Yes ma'am." A deep voice sighed. "Sir, I've been informed that you have been witnessed buying, _and _using illegal-oh hell, hey, Lambert, it's Carol's kid," I heard the officer say my mother's name as I began to daze in and out of consciousness whether it was from the insane amount of drugs I had just taken, or the fact that my face had just been smashed into glass.

"_Again_?" I heard the other say. "What is that, the second time this month?" _Third actually, but whose countin'._

"Yah," the one who had his hold on me said while he slid me down on the ground. "Hey, Duncan, common kid snap outta it," he said shakin' me and smakin' his hand against my face as I fell deeper into unconsciousness.

You know it's bad when all the police officers in town know your name, not just because almost everyone in your family were cops, or 'cause your town had a population of about eleven hundred, but because you caused _that_ much trouble. I was around these guys so much they were basically family, a huge, dysfunctional, filled with hatred typed family, but what was even worse was not only did just all the cops in town know who I was, but almost _everyone _in town know who I was. To everyone I was 'that troubled kid' or 'the kid who tagged the school' or even just 'that kid who tried robbing the convenient store.'

"Hey, maaan," I smiled grabbing his face. "Dude…what the _fuck_is up with all the colors?" I yelled for some strange reason seeing him in a reddish color.

"What colors?" He cocked his head to the side confused.

"Dude…w-wouldn't it be _awesome _if you could like, _eat _colors? That would be… the bomb diggity, _diggity_, _**diggity**_!" I burst into laughter. The two of them stared at me like I was fuckin' insane, which I was.

"You _see _he's fuckin' _baked!_" the manager said throwing her hands in the air. I scowled at her and hacked a loogie on her worn out _Sperrys _causing her to scream in rage threatening the cops with their jobs if the didn't remove me immediately.

"Book 'em." One of the cops, the one a few feet behind us said. The one cop who had his hold on me stood me up, reached into his back pocket, and took out a pair of handcuffs that for some reason instantly made me spaz out, which was strange 'cause by now I was beyond familiar with them.

"Wow man…d-don't fuckin' _touch _me with those…" I zonked out for a minute. "Oh God, I am totally tripping _balls!" _I slurred as he held me against the door, one hand on the back of my head, and the other snapping the cuffs around my scabbing wrists, which made me cry out in pain. "Ow! _Fuck, _that hurts." I spat.

"What hurts?" The cop asked.

"M-my damn...wrists that's _what_," he cautiously lifted up my sleeves and starred in shock at my scared, gashed wrists.

"You do that to yourself kid?" He asked concerned.

"Of course man," I spat. "I just need to feel _something _to fuckin' function man," I instantly burst into tears as he turned me around crying into his chest_._

"Oh, man he's _really _hammered this time Paul," the cop sighed throwing me into the police car. When he closed the car door I immediately tried busting it down with my feet, flailing and cussing at the feeling of defeat. It mustn't have taken long for me to eventually tire out eventually falling into unconsciousness for the second time today.

* * *

I eventually woke up with no memory of what had happened earlier that day in a jail cell with a major migraine. _Fuck. _Whatever it was I did when my aunt found out 'bout this I was gonna be dead fuckin' meat. Because of the insane buzz as I sat up I groaned, clutching my head in pain, the feeling of nausea coming back to me again. Before I had a chance to react I rushed over to the cell's toliet, and once again vomitted all over it and myself. This time covered in more blood than actual puke. I wiped my arm across my mouth and moaned before I stood up, and I looked out across the room at the two officers I'm assuming arrested me (who just so happened to be the closest to family I got left), Officers Bouvier and Lambert, carrying on a conversation against the front desk.

"Hey!" I interrupted them sickly. "What the _fuck _is going on?"

"I don't know," Bouvier said walking over to me unlocking my cell door. He was a tall, built man with dark brown hair and green eyes. He was my personal favorite of all the cops that had arrested me over the years 'cause he always had a thing for my mom, so if he wanted to be on her good side that meant he had to get along with me, and he did rather well at it except for the past year or so. Just like me, he was completely heart-broken when my mother died, so he tried being more of a father figure to me. Even offering to let me stay with him after her death, which I gladly refused. I defiantly wasn't in the mood for _another _father figure. I walked past him and plopped into one of the cheap lobby chairs trying to calm my stomach.

"Why don't you tell us why you have an extremely high dose of Heroin in your system." He asked crossing his arms over his chest like my 'father' would examining the vomit that covered my body, but instead of answering him I sat blankly letting my mind race.

* * *

_"See sweetie, this is where mommy works." My mom said walking me into the downtown police station with a Colgate smile plastered on her face. I had been there once before, not for anything bad of course, I could never imagine breaking the law, but I've been in for the 'bring your son to work day' easily fascinated more over my mom's job than my dad's. As we walked into her private office the expression on her face showed she was obviously proud of herself, and happy here, and that meant I would easily be happy too._

_"Is this office all _yours_?" My five year old self asked managing to slip my hand out of her grasp, running over to her desk, picking up everything that lay on top of it, reorganizing it myself._

_"Of course!" She chuckled. "I mean, I _do_ have a pretty important job." She said taking a seat across from her desk as I spun around in her wheelie chair._

_"Mom, this. Is. Awesome!" I screamed throwing my hands up in the air. "When I grow up I wanna be a cop just like you!"_

_"Really?" She asked with a hopeful smile on her face._

_"Hell yah! This kills!"_

_"Duncan, what did I tell you about swearing?"_

_"Sorry ma, it's just…y-you're really cool..." I told her coyly, making sure to look her directly in the eyes so she wouldn't think I was lying._

_I swear I saw tears start to form in her eyes, but not the bad kind, the proud, thankful kind. "Thank you sweetie," she said while pulling me into a warn embrace. "It's nice to know _someone_ thinks that."_

* * *

"Duncan, you listening to me?" Officer Bouvier said in a stern tone, which shocked me back into reality

"What?" I asked pissed off since he was ruining unusual a happy flashback.

"You wanna explain to us why you have drugs in your system?" He asked like he was my father.

"_'Cause_." I muttered.

"'Cause _why?_ Dammit that's _not _an answer!" He spat slamming his hand against the wall.

I sighed. " 'Cause I fuckin' _need _it man!" I shouted. "That's fuckin' _why_!"

"Obviously," the other officer, Lambert, said. "Kid, what happened to you? I mean I remember when you used to come in here with your mom during the week, and-"

"Yah, you _don't _have to remind me." I barked, sick of the shit they were throwing at me.

"I mean Duncan, you were just the happiest kid." Lambert told me. He was shorter and fatter than Officer Bouvier and he had dirty blonde hair and dark brown eyes. Sometimes I could picture him behind a counter at McDonald's or cleanin' somebody's toilet, _not _arresting people for a living. "Now look at you." He continued. "You're the exact _opposite_ of happy."

"No I'm not," I told him rolling my eyes.

"Duncan, it doesn't take a genius to notice it." To avoid hearing him ramble on I put my head down and focused on how badly I needed a new pair of shoes. Maybe once I was done being told how messed up I was I'd snatch a pair from the _Payless _a block down. "Your mother was a great woman, but she's dead." He said putting his hand on my shoulder that I shrugged off. What the fuck was this guy on? "I understand if your upset, but you can't keep blaming yourself for it by gettin' high. You just need to face the fact that she's gone, and she's _not _coming back. So stop beating yourself up because of it. Y-you need to get over it like everyone else has." I felt hot tears running down my face and looked up at him, his face stern and emotionless. At that minute, I couldn't control myself. _How dare _anyone _talk about my mom like that._ I snapped. Throwing myself on top of officer Lambert, someone I never _really _like, but still used to call 'family,' and started beating the shit out of him.

I sat straddled on top of him beating him senseless. "You fuckin' piece of _shit_!" I spat my knuckles cracking against his fat face. "Don't you _ever _talk about my mom like that!" As hard as he tried to fight me off I easily managed to overpower him, his body limp and powerless under mine, which was a shock considering he was easily _twice _my size. I continued to pummel his face in until I heard a shrill cry coming from the entrance.

"What the _hell?_" she spat. I was able to look up at my aunt who's hands covered her mouth in shock for a split second, but another second later I was being pried off of the bloody, unconscious smart ass who laid under me. Refusing to give up I continued to slug both my fists into his face shoving off the additional hand trying to rip me off him.

Eventually Officer Bouvier was able to throw me off of his partner, and me pinned up against the wall in seconds, hooking ice-cold cuffs around my scabbed wrists. Sadly, I wasn't finished yet. I continued kicking and screaming agaisnt the wall refusing defeat throwing myself on to the ground along with him, and no matter how strong he was compared to me the officer literally had to throw himself on top of me to keep me from moving. Once I was unable to put up anymore of a fight hot tears started running down my face, and started weeping against the cold tile floor of the station.

Before saying anything more Bouvier took a minute to catch his breath, and when he was finally able to inhale steady breaths he sighed as if he felt bad for _me_ instead of the guy I just beat senseless. "Sir, you are being placed under arrest for the assault of an officer. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do can and _will_ be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney…" his voice began to trail off and everything around me began to spin and slow down at the same time. I saw my aunt rush over to Lambert checking his badly beaten' face. Blood gushing out of his nose and mouth, teeth missing, his lip busted open that was when I thought: _'__Did I really do that?' _and '_How?' _She looked up at me and for the first time she had pity in her eyes, but that was soon washed away from the amount of disgust and fear that seemed to overpower that weak emotion. I felt more hot tears pour down my face when I realized the monster I had become still unaware if I even _cared_ that I hurt others in order to make myself feel better.

Still pondering at the thought I felt everything began to set back into motion; now I was being jerked by my hoodie and drug to the back of the station where a heavy-duty cell awaited me.

* * *

_**A/N: Good? Bad? Tell me what you think so far. Review!**_


	4. I Shouldn't Have To Face You

**A/N: Here's the next chapter. **

**Rated M for strong language and drug use.**

**R&R and enjoy!**

**~ApPeAl2rEaSoN**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 4:**

It was quiet for the longest time. I sat alone in a cold, empty cell in the back of the station. I sat on the bottom bunk of a cell's tiny bed, my face in my hands, trying hardest not to break down. _What the hell went on back there? Why couldn't I stop? Why do I wish that was _me_ and not the poor dude I beat the shit outta? Was I actually feeling _bad_ for someone?_ As so many things ran through my mind I managed to get an ear full of the conversation going on in the next room over, and since I was 'too dangerous' to be put in a regular cell with a cage door they put me in a heavy duty cell with no way of seeing the outside world. I stood up, and walked over to the wall where I pressed my ear against the cold brick, which made everything sound clearer.

"Do you know the _hell _he's on?" Bouvier asked.

"How should I know? He doesn't even talk to me unless he's like that!" My aunt spat. "He's a threat to others! We should have him locked up for this!"

He sighed. "Of course I do. I've known that before all this started…" _Wait, what?_

"Well, what are we supposed to do? I mean we can't just let him_ go!_" She yelled.

"Don't go too hard on him." A weak, third voice said. _Lambert? "_He didn't mean it."

"Paul, what are you talking about? If we didn't throw him off you he would have _killed _you!" My aunt shouted.

"No, he _wouldn't _have. Or at least he wouldn't have _meant _to…" he trailed off. "Did you see that kid's face? I-it…was like he wanted nothing more than to throw himself off me and rush over to help, but…something wouldn't let him." I'll give the guy some sympathy I never did like him, but now I see how much he actually cared.

"What the _fuck _are you talking about Paul? You think you know him and you _don't" _My aunt protested.

"I know him better than you." He muttered. A satisfied smirk arose from my face. _Burn bitch._

"He's…he's a danger to _everyone_." She rebutted _That' not true…was it?_

"I'm _not _pressing charges." I heard him say.

"Paul, you know you can't do that." Bouvier stepped in.

"Of course I can!"

"Paul, he's being fined with more that just assault. There's nothing we can do. Either way he's gonna be locked up." _Shit..._

"Well, I _am _a cop! Don't _I _have a fucking say in anything!" He spat back.

"Unfortunately no...neither of us do."

"Carol would've done something about it..." Lambert muttered. The room was again silent for a minute 'cause just like me everyone was probably mourning at the sound of my mother's name.

"Well," Bouvier broke the silence. "We'll have a bus sent here for him in the morning to ship him out to the Quebec Detention Center." I sighed. _Great job Duncan, great _fucking _job._

My aunt sighed. "Do whatever you have to do just keep him outta my sight. I-I just can't take it anymore. I'm done with dealing with him. Maybe if we're lucky," she paused. "He'll be sent away longer than we expect..." I tried as hard as I could to fight back the tears that were streaming down my face. "I'll be here in the morning to say goodbye I guess."

I zoned in and out of the rest of the conversation though I did hear my aunt leave, and I did hear he offer to take Officer Lambert to the hospital, and when he refused she offered to take him home, which he gladly accepted. The lights remained on until around midnight, which was when the cops normally locked up and headed back to their offices.

'Cause of my insomnia I wasn't able to fall asleep at all during the period of time I was in the back room. The next time I looked at the clock I was barely able to make out what read 1:27 am. I sighed, annoyed that I was stuck in here 'til I was shipped out in the morning. Not that I was nervous about going back to juvie, I basically ran the place, I just didn't wanna face the people that somewhat 'cared about me' in the morning.

I sat up in bed and hopped off the top bunk, placing my hands in my pockets, and began to pace around my tiny enclosed cell. It didn't take me long to realize that the officers didn't search me for weapons when my hand made contact with the pocketknife from earlier. Thank God. There was no way I was going back to juvienow. I walked over to the cell door and started picking at the heavy duty lock with my knife praying I could hack it, and in no time I had unlocked it. If only I remembered what I did knowing it might come in handy later on in life, but hey, at the moment I was ecstatic with the large amount of luck I was granted with.

I easily snuck through the back of the station to the entrance, which was when I remembered the front door was locked. I slowly crept over the office Bouvier was currently passed out in knowing there was no way he'd wake up. Dude was the heaviest fuckin' sleeper I've ever seen. I know this because it wasn't the first time I've broken out of here when he was asleep. I crept into his doorway, grabbed the keys from off his key rack, and made a dash for the front door.

You think that a police station would have an alarm system installed for this very reason, but no, that's what the _cops _are for. My aunt _was _right, they were a lousy excuse of police officers. I quickly unlocked the door tossed the keys back on the front counter and walked out of the station without a single issue, and the first thing to hit my mind as soon as I took that victorious step outside of the station was: _Damn, I needed a buzz._

I causally made my way down the street around the corner just like any other day 'cause I didn't wanna look like I just escaped from prison, okay, it wasn't _really _prison, but cut me some slack I gotta at least _look _tough around here. I decided going home to hide wouldn't be the _smartest _thing I'd ever thought off, and not to go back to the gas station for a while 'cause that bitch of a owner would be monitoring the place extra carefully now she had that restraining order in affect.

I decided to make my way to the crappy part of downtown where I usually hung out. There were a lot of homeless there, and even though they were as poor as shit they were almost _always_ stoned or drunk, plus I was really good friends with some of them, so they would be more than willing to share with me.

Once I got there a small smile arose across my face when I caught a glimpse of Tom, one of my only friends left in this cruel world. He was a sixty-five year old Nam survivor, and man was he fucked up. He had been living like this since before I was born, and I came across him right around the time I started getting in trouble with the law. I guess you would assume he's part of the reason I am the way I am today, and if you do, well I should kick your ass for just thinking it.

Tom was the most harmless guy on the face of the Earth, sometimes I wonder how he got mixed up with me…anyways, just like me he's been through some pretty shitty times, but it's not like he shoved that joint down my throat and made me take that first drag. The dude was fucking hilarious though, he made me laugh at everything he said even if he was being serious. He was just so out there and had been through so much crazy shit it almost seemed that everything he was saying was a lie, but hell, for all I know they _could _be.

"Hey buddy," I said as I approached him.

"Hey there Damon," he smiled a toothless smile at me. It was too bad he could never get my name right. "Where have you been I haven't seen you around in a while."

"I uh, got in a bit of trouble with the law man."

"That sucks. What all did you do?"

"Drugs...Assault"

"Ye' shouldn't have done that." He joked in a thick southern accent.

"Yah man, I know. So, you better keep that shit hidden." I said pointing at the joint in his hand. "Or you'll end up like me, and I'm pretty sure you don't got the skills to bust out like I do."

"You busted out?" He asked taking a drag from his joint.

"Yah man, what did you expect? For me to wait to be sent off to juvie in the morning?" I joke taking a seat next to him.

He was silent for a minute. "Eh, I guess not." He grinned.

"Damn right, cops and me don't mix well, and who would look after _your_ ass all day? Plus I really needed this." I said excepting the joint as soon as he offered it, and taking a long worth waiting drag. God, it felt good to get that buzzed feeling again. "So what's been new with you? I haven't seen you in a while man, you're lookin' good," I lied.

"The usual: eat a little, sleep a little, drink a lot, eat some more, getting high a bunch, pass out. Oh, and _repeat._" He slurred, and we both busted out laughing.

"Ha, you see that's why I respect you man," I told him when I was finally able to pull myself together now handing him back the joint.

"Why 'cause I'm an old useless drunk?" He joked, inhaling the drug, and letting out a loud wheezy laugh.

"No," I laughed back. "'Cause you're straight up,"

"I'm _what_?" He asked almost pissed off lookin'. "Ehh, never mind. Hell, I guess I'll never understand your hip new lingo."

"S-sure you will buddy, I'll even teach you." I tell him lying of course. He hands me back his joint, and I take it out of his hands and start smokin' it, now completely buzzed. I'll have to give Tom props, he _always _found the strongest fuckin' drugs in town. I asked him who he bought from, but he always refused to share.

He pauses for a minute to think. "Promise?" He finally asks, but by then I was already too stoned to comprehend words anymore.

"Suuure buddy anything you say." I slurred pattin' him on the back. He laughs and then lets out a heavy hoarse cough. We spend the next hour talking about the most random shit, but that's what drugs do to you.

"S-so you're how old now...four-fourteen?" He asks.

I burst out laughing. "Sixteen man, I'll be seventeen in a month. Where the fuck have _you _been?"

"I don't know...where ever the drugs take me I guess." He chuckles.

"N-no _fuckin'_ shit man." I tell him.

"So tell me kid, 'ave you found what you've been lookin' for yet?"

His words surprise me. "W-what?" I ask, words slurred.

"You know that 'special someone'?" _What the fuck kind of question was that?_

I ponder at the question for probably too long, but only 'cause his question really caught me off guard. "I actually don't know man…"

"What do you mean you 'don't know'?" For as baked as he was his facial expression was almost _too _serious.

"I don't know. There _is _this girl, but she would never go for me, and…dude, are you all right?" I ask. "That'a pretty serious question for a guy like you."

"Just curious." He shrugged. "Now if you don't mind..." he said motioning me to continue.

"Uh...I-I guess I don't look for 'love' in the right places man." _Great one, that had to have been the cheesiest fucking thing you've ever said dumb ass._

He stared at me like he was concentrating, then smiled a big dopey smile before he instantly broke into song. "Damon's been l-loooooooooking for love in all the wrong pllllllllaaaaaaaaaces! Loooooooooooking for love in too many faaaaaaaaacccccccccces! Seeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaarching their eyes looking for trrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaces! What I'm dreeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaming o-"

"Tom, man cut the shit out," I spat, smacking him on the arm.

"Hell no kid, that song is a classic! Looooooooooooking for love in _allllllll _the wrong pllllllllaaaaaaaaaces!" He screamed out of key.

"Man, shut the _fuck _up!" I told him, jumping on top of him trying to cover his doped up mouth. "You're gonna draw attention to us shit face!" Too bad even with my hand over his face he still continued to sing, but you couldn't even comprehend what the guy was saying anymore.

Tom eventually died down after about a half an hour of ear shattering singing, _seriously _dude needed some _major _vocal lessons if he wanted to sing that much. Not long after him I was able to fall asleep too. I'm still not sure if it was the drugs that made me tired, or 'cause my body finally let me do something I wanted for once, but man did it feel nice to to close my eyes and relax.

I woke up an hour or two later and wasn't able to fall back to sleep, so instead of listening to Tom snore his useless ass of the rest of the night I decided now would be the best time to go home and get the shit I needed. If you really planned on me going back home, giving myself up, and being thrown back in the slammer you were fuckin' wrong man. I was a 'fugitive' now so I couldn't go home, but honestly I'd rather be wandering the streets than being bossed around by some bitch that calls herself a 'good guardian,' or being thrown in another cell. I sat on the cold, muddy ground for what seemed like hours staring blindly at the stop sign on the other side of the street wondering how I had even gotten myself into this situation.

* * *

"_You fucking bitch!" _

_"Please, don't do this!" I heard someone scream before a loud crack overpowered it as I heard the two pairs of footsteps die down to only one. Frightened, my eyes shot open from where I fell asleep under the island in the middle of the kitchen floor, which was where I hid my seven year old self from his drunken rage last night. _

_"Mom?" I asked before I started crawling out from under the island straining to get to my feet. "M-mom?" I repeated now walking into the living room doorway._

_"Get the fuck up!" He spat ramming his large _Timberland _boot into her stomach as she cried hysterically curled up in a ball, whether it was from the intense amount of pain she was in, or the fact she was pregnant with _my_ little brother or sister._

_"Stop! Stop! What are you doing?" I screamed running over to him, shoving him out of the way before he struck my mother again. As soon as he was out of the way I rushed over to my mother's side, but before I had a chance to help her up I felt a large pair of hands grab me by the back of my head throwing me onto the ground. Not bothering to complain I cautiously picked myself off the ground before I found myself being knocked back down._

_"Stay the fuck out of this!" He slurred._

_"You leave him alone!" My mother tried defending._

"_Did I say you could talk bitch?" he spat thrusting his foot into her stomach again. She let out a terrified scream._

_"Stop that!" I cried. "Don't you _dare _kick my mom!" I threatened. He quickly turned his attention back to me with an evil drunken glare on his face._

_"So you want to be a hero _huh?" _He spat grabbing me by the collar of my already stretched out t-shirt throwing me up against the wall. I winced from the large migraine I immediately received from it. _"_You're a _tough _little fucker aren't you?" He spat on my face._

_Holding myself together I furrowed my brows at him and replied. "Don't. _Touch. _My. Mom!" Kicking him in the crotch causing him to topple to the ground in pain. I dashed away from him back over to my mom who was now straining to get herself off the ground. I knelt down next to her and excepted the warm embrace she pulled me into._

_"Thank you for being _so_ strong_ _sweetie_." _She said sincerely, but extremely weak._

"_Did he hurt you?" I asked feeling hot tears run down my face._

_"I'll be okay. I pr-" she screamed before the same large pair of hands quickly started constricting around my neck making it hard to breath._

_"You fucker!" He spat before the first blow that I was stupid enough to not even see coming, came across my right check making me bite a chuck of the inside of my mouth off. I felt blood flood into my mouth. _

_"Mom!" I cried. _

"_Don't you _dare _cry you _worthless_ boy! You really think _that_ whore_," _he spat pointing at her trying to get off the ground. "Is going to help you? You're fucking pathetic!" He yelled slamming his rock hard fist against my nose. I screamed once again when I heard a loud crack. Blood now dripping down my chin. My mother now standing powerless in the corner apologetic tears streaming down her face. "You're gonna pay now you ballsy little fucker!" He said before the room went completely black._

* * *

"Fucking bastard." I spat under my breath, thrusting my pocketknife through my pant leg, and carving a deep, straight line through the fabric. A pool of blood immediately started to form under it, quickly seeping through the thin denim. I winced in pain as I removed the blade from my skin, and began to wipe the remaining blood on the blade off with my other pant leg, and waited for it to stop bleeding before I attempted to get off the uncomfortable, yet familiar ground. After two or three tries I was finally successful, I brushed myself off, and limped down the dirt road not bothering to say goodbye to Tom, knowing I would be seeing him again soon.

The downtown in this area said a lot about the town I lived in. It was full of hookers, drugs, crime, pollution, and abandonment. Defiantly not a place you want your kids growing up in. Good thing from me was I knew almost everyone in town, and the ones I didn't know knew everything they wanted to about me, so I was could get just about anything I wanted in town that is of course, if I talked to the _right _people.

"Hi Duncan, looking good. Need some _special _treatment tonight?" Some of the passing hookers would ask me as I walked by. When you're an under aged sex addict who could make twenty dollars with the snap of your fingers you too could easily become friends with every whore in this town.

"Not tonight ladies. I'm flat broke." I told them continuing to walk forward.

"You could always pay us back some other time." Some offered.

"I thought you learned by now _not _to trust me." I stopped, turning around to face them, and what a prize they were. Worthless whores who dressed in the skankiest outfit they could find, that or they just couldn't afford to buy clothes that actually _fit_ them, and they wore so much make-up they made clowns look normal.

"Of course we can. Any girl would be stupid not to trust someone like _you._" Sadly, the bitch was right, but I don't think we were processing the same thought. Any chick that _didn't _trust me would rather not live, but these girls worshiped me, and I guess I'll never figure out why. Hell, every time I passed one or even had to respond to them I wanted to bust their face in or spit on 'em. They were _pathetic, desperate, worthless, lowly, vulnerable, filthy_ whores_, _and those were just a _few_ words I used to describe someone like them, but hey, they did know their way around in bed that is if you knew your way around them like _me. _You know, give 'em a few compliments, make 'em feel like they're actually _worth _something, and you can get practically _any _dumb ass whore to do _anything _you want. Hell, I even managed to talk a group of 'em into a foursome with me for nothing, but a few 'friendly' gestures, and some simple kind words. That was when I realized I owned the streets I walked on at night. I could get any bitch to do everything I wanted with the snap of my fingers, and of course being me I _always _took advantage of the opportunity.

"Damn right." I told them continuing to walk away. "But not tonight ladies. I got some shit to take care of." I told them surprised at myself for passing up such a great opportunity, considering I was always room for me to be in the mood for sex. This was all probably because of all the shit that went on in the past twenty-four hours.

In response most of them "Aww'ed" so, feeling sympathy for them I replied. "_But_, I might be back down here later on. Patience ladies, and you _will _get what you want." I winked, which made them breath a sigh of relief, or cheer. Pssh, at least I was treated like a God_ somewhere._

After the numerous attempts to seduce me on my walk home, and surprised I didn't even _spot_ my aunt selling herself to random dudes and chicks as I walked by I _finally _made it to the entrance of my current small downtown neighborhood development. That was the thing about my town. No matter how rich you were _everything _was small here. The buildings, the people, the jobs, the crimes, _everything. _Hell, I was probably the biggest thing that ever happened to our small town, and I was barely 17 and only weighed about 120 pounds.

I snuck through numerous yards, hopping fence after fence until I caught glimpse of my back yard. Once in sight I made a dash for the open field a mere hundred feet from me, ducking under the windowsill in case anyone was still up. I poked my head around the back door checking to see if the lights were off, and surprising enough the back door wasn't locked. _Bingo. _I thought gladly letting myself in. The kitchen clock read 5:19 am, so I _did_ sleep longer that I thought, well, that automatically helped my already pissed off mood. But before I was even able to take another step the kitchen light turned on, and it took a minute for my eyes to adjust to the light, but there she stood exhausted looking with her arms crossed over her chest, staring daggers at me in the doorway.

"Aw, shit." I spat under my breath.

"What the fuck are you doing _here?" _She spat at me.

While standing in the doorway dumbfounded, and a bit buzzed I had to think of something quick. "I-uh, thought you'd miss me," I smirked, but mentaly hitting myself. _Nice one dumb ass._

Obviously she couldn't take a joke 'cause in seconds she had made her way over to me her hand lunging for my face. "I got a call from the police station saying you 'broke out' and your _pathetic _excuse was 'you thought I'd miss you?' I swear to God, Duncan, I should have the right mind to beat you _senseless _right now!"

"Then do it," I suggested, but before I even had time to blink I felt her hand quickly come into contact with my already bruised cheek for the second time. I winced, but didn't bother complaining knowing it would only satisfy her to see me in pain. I let out a deep sigh hoping she would get that I was getting annoyed, and of course, she didn't.

"I've been up _all _night with the station trying to track you down!"

"Well, here I am." I said walking past her. "Now you can get the sand outta your vagina." I said lighting a cigarette as I took a seat on the kitchen table.

Infuriated, she snatched the cigarette out of my mouth, threw it on the ground, and stopped it out over dramatically. "Why do you think this is a _joke?"_

"'Cause you're making it one." I said chuckled lighting yet _another _cigarette in my mouth. She bared her teeth at me before grabbing me by the collar of my hoodie inches from my face.

"_I'm_ trying to save your ass from being thrown in prison or worse being _killed_!" She spat through her teeth, which only made me laugh foolishly, and that was when she came to realize I was still high. "You're _fucking_ kidding me." She whispered letting go of me. "After all of the shit that happened today you still manage to break out just to get a fucking _buzz_!" At this point I had no cocky comebacks or witty responses. I was found out, for the first time since earlier today I actually felt vulnerable.

"No I'm not." I quickly said getting out of my seat, and started walking towards the hallway.

"I should have _fucking _known!" She said smacking her forehead before backing me into a corner. "I hope you know that I will be turning you in, _and _while your sorry ass is locked up I'm gonna find that little stash you keep in this house, and give to the cops as proof, so I can get you out of my life even _longer!_" She threatened.

The two of us continued to stare down each other before I did the most immature thing possible. I spat right in her face, but to me then it seemed like a good idea. She let out an infuriated scream before she grabbed me by the collar, and drug me into the hallway.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I yelled as I tried to keep up with her fast pace while she ignored me. "Yo, did you fuckin' here me?" I continued to bitch before I realized she had lead us into the bathroom. "That the fuck are you-" I gasped when she literally threw me into the bathtub, and turned the shower on drenching me head to foot in water. "What the-" I was cut of once again when she threw herself on me to prevent myself from getting up. I continued to struggle out from under her, but was unable to when I found the more I tried to get free the heavier my eyes seemed to feel.

The last thing I remember was her muttering something like, "Sweet dreams you ungrateful little bastard," before I fell into unconsciousness.

* * *

_**A/N: Review.**_


	5. Unwelcomed Visitor

**A/N: Alright, so I tried shaking things up a bit here with...well, you'll see once you read it. Warning though; the beginning half of this chapter is a rape scene. Not that I wanted to write one I just felt like there needed to be one somewhere in this story...**

**About this story it's mostly focusing around Duncan, but a little later on in the story it becomes major DXC, so you just have to wait, and be patient until that time comes. This chapter also starts using more than just D POV. I'm experimenting a bit with other characters, and will defiantly start writing in different POV, but this story will stay D POV for the majority of the time.**

**This isn't one of the better chapters, but still R&R and enjoy!**

**~LooksDon'tMakeTheWorldGo'Round**

* * *

Chapter 5:

_God only knows how long it took for me to recognize my surroundings once I woke up from my drug filled stupor realizing I was still in the bathtub, my ass soakin' in a pool of water. I clutched my head trying to relive myself the from my major headache I was suffering from and the major embarrassment from yesterday when I noticed both my sleeves, and pant legs were rolled up revealing my gruesome scabs that covered nearly every inch of my bare skin. Great, I'll sure as hell be getting a lecture about "hurting myself" later on top of everything else I do wrong. Maybe if I was lucky they could lock me up for cutting too. When I was finally able to see straight I attempted trying to get out of the tub, but failed, twice. Sick of embarrassing myself from fallin' on my ass too much I threw myself on to my feet and groggily made my way into the hall._

_The house was unusually quiet, probably because my aunt was out turning my ass in to the cops, but that didn't concern me 'cause all I really wanted was change out of my sopping wet clothes, which made me smell like some kind of nasty ass street dog. I cautiously made my way down the hall to the basement, or what I like to call my room, and immediately stripped outta everything, but my boxers (which I actually enjoyed the wet feeling of) until I heard the door slam behind me. Annoyed I looked over my shoulder expecting to see my still pissed off aunt, arms crossed, staring daggers at me with all the police officers in town behind her ready to book me, but instead I was faced with a too familiar figure staring me down in the doorway. I immediately dropped the shirt in my hand and began to back up. _

"_Aw, now don't tell me you're not happy to see your own father Duncan?" He asked walking towards me with the most fake 'nice guy' expression plastered across his face. _

"_Y-you…better stay the _fuck_ away from me man!" I snapped backing into my closet door looking around for the closest thing to me, which happened to be a tacky ass lamp, my aunt gave me for Christmas last year. I dove for it and pointed it at his face._

"_I'm warnin' you man I-I'll fuck you up," I threatened shaking hysterically. He laughed at me like I was fuckin' kidding._

"_Now do you really think I'll believe for a _second_ you would harm your own father? Your own flesh and blood? Put the lamp down son, all I wanna do is talk," he tried persuading me as he walked even closer to me. I gripped the lamp even tighter causing my knuckles to turn chalk white and swung it at him, which he was easily able to grab the end of with his enormous hands, his nice guy expression completely gone. "I said: Put. The. Lamp. _Down!_" He shouted tearing it out of my grasp and slugging me across the face with it. _

_My knees buckled and I dropped to the ground able to taste the blood from my broken nose. My head shot up to meet my father's eyes when I saw his shadow towering over me. All my life growing up I would always be told that I looked exactly like him: same hair (minus the mohawk), same body figure, hell, even same face, which to most kids would be the best thing to know you look like your parents, but to me it was equivalent to spitting in my face._

"_Get up," he ordered holding the bloody, broken lamp in his left hand (another thing to add on to the "list of ways I'm just like my dad:" I'm left handed just like him). Refusing to respond I continued to hold my bloody hand against my badly broken nose, and began to let tears fall down my face not 'cause I was in pain or anything, but because I was scared shitless of my past finally coming back to haunt me. "Do I fuckin' _stutter_?" he asked menacingly kicking me in the gut with the same _Timberlands _from my childhood. "Get the fuck up!" Not knowing if I could take another powerful blow from him I cautiously got myself off the ground, my knees buckling in fear. _

_Before I was able to catch my balance, my father had me pinned against the wall, my neck in his grasp, unable to touch the ground. He looked me up and down numerous times before he spoke again._

"_My, my, I certainly have raised _quite_ a boy, haven't I? He's strong, good looking," he went on as I struggled to get out of his grasp. "And _pigheaded _just like his mother," he spat tightening his grip around my neck causing me to gag. "It's been quiet a while hasn't it boy? How old are you now, fifteen?" _

"Seventeen_," I choked close to throwing up._

"_Even better," he started. "That means you're old enough now, so daddy won't have to make up a lie about what he's gonna do to you." He grinned dropping me to the ground as he began to unbutton his pants, which gave me enough time to reach into my pant pocket fishing around for my pocketknife. Once I had it in my hand I turned to him._

"_You're fuckin' sick you know that?" I spat. He turned around seeing the knife I was hiding behind my back._

"I'm _sick__?" He asked. Stepping on my free hand, which made me yelp in pain. "I'm not the one who's hiding a _knife _behind my back," he said kicking me in the gut again making me double over all the wind now knocked out of me, and picking the knife up off the ground. "What were you really gonna do son? _Kill_ me with it?" He laughed. "I'll give you props," He said. "You're still the same boy who used to think he was _tough, _and who used to think he could take _anyone_." He said getting down to my eye level. "Even me."_

_I sat on the ground trying to catch my breath while I furrowed my brows at him. Annoyed, he had picked me up by my dog collar and forced me up against the wall again. I grunted, gasping as the back of my head ricochet off of the wall, but didn't have much time to do anything else as his lips crashed into mine roughly. I felt his tongue force its way into my mouth, feeling the need to puke. His hands made their way down my chest to my thighs groping my dick causing me to let out a moan, back away from him, and spit directly in his face._

"_You little fucker!" He screamed as he slashed the blade of my pocketknife across my chest. I screamed in pain hoping, praying someone would come to my rescue. "You _dare _treat your father like that?" He questioned. "Keep it up boy and there are gonna be some consequences," he said holding the knife against my neck causing me to cringe. "Now that's more like it," he purred forcing down my boxers, exposing my limp dick hanging between my legs. _

**_{RAPE SCENE AHEAD}_**

"_Awh, not hard one bit for daddy Duncan?" He asked grabbing my balls twisting them vigorously, tugging them and causing me to arch my back towards him, and cry out in pain. When he let go, he forced me around to face the wall, shoving my face against it, making my embarrassingly pale ass arch outward. My father paused to examine the fading abrasions and bruises over my back._

"_What are these from boy?" He asked. _

_Too afraid I would receive another gash from my knife I replied. _"_J-juvie's a bitch man." I nearly cried, winching when I felt him trace them slowly._

"_God," he moaned. "Do you know how long I've waited to be with you again son?" Shivers raced down my spine when I felt the touch of his lips against the back of my neck._

"_Apparently long enough since you're looking forward for _fucking _your only son you sick bastard," I spat. He growled at the insult and smashed my face into the wall grabbing me by the hips and driving into my incredibly tight' self, causing me to arch sharply and cry out in pain and fear._

_Sick bastard…causing his own flesh and blood pain turned him on. He stretched me out against the wall, making me cry out as my body was bashed by my father's powerful thrusts, feeling rock hard dick jabbing into my ass. My eyes shut tightly to try and prevent any tears from escaping, knowing there was nothing I could do to stop him, and how tears just turned my father on even more._

"_You're such a hot little fucker," He nibbled my ear, moaning as he fucked my tight ass. His nails dug into my petite waist, drawing blood as he gripped tightly, pulling my ass back to meet his rough, uncaring thrusts, feeling myself clench and spasm around him. I whimpered, opening my eyes, my cheek against the cold wall as my own father fucked me up against it roughly. It was just like reliving my childhood all over again. My eyes were glazed over with tears, body shaking as my father continued to plow me. _

"_Yeah you little bitch, cry for me...cry for your fuckin' daddy." He laughed cruelly, as he still managed to fuck harder and harder into my now crying self sandwiched between his body and the wall. He didn't notice or hear my bedroom door open. Thank god he had forgotten to lock it on his way in. That's when I saw a figure out of the corner of my eye, and was easily able to make it out...Courtney. Fuck. Courtney!_

**_{ALRIGHT, IT'S SAFE}_**

"_What the…" she trailed off. "GET THE FUCK OFF OF HIM!" Her voice was furious, waving her clenched fists in the air. My father about jumped out of his skin, quickly turning around, still deep inside of me. He chuckled._

"_Now do you really think your little girlfriend can help-"_

"_I'm _not _his girlfriend," she spat cutting him off. I turned to face her hoping she would put that aside for now and help me the fuck out._

"_Really? Cause that's not what it looks like to me." My dad challenged knowing exactly how to piss her off like I would._

"Excuse_ me?" She asked easily getting pissed._

"_Princess," I begged "_Please_, drop it," _

"No_," she spat. "_Look_, I'm not Duncan's whore, bitch, skank, slut, or whatever you wanna call it, and most certainly _not _his girlfriend." She yelled. "Is this what you're trying to sell to this guy _Duncan_?" I stared at her speechless long enough to make her walked right out of the room. "I don't need this shit," she said "Have fun being a _faggot '_cause that's _really_ a good look for you," she spat at me right before she slammed the door behind her._

_"Now where were we?" I felt him whisper in my ear. _

* * *

**_Duncan - _**

I screamed instantly waking up in cold sweat realizing I was still in the bathroom from last night soaking my ass in the same pool of water. I let out a sigh of relief knowing that the hell I went through was just a dream, an extremely _realistic_ dream. I cautiously made my way out of the bathroom down the hall. When I noticed the house was still extremely empty I slowly opened my bedroom door to see my room completely torn apart and my aunt, arms crossed, pissed, staring daggers at me. _Shit. _

"The fuck is goin' on?" I asked trying to seem vicious, but my aunt's pissed off facial expression was still locked on me.

"I don't know Duncan, why don't you try explaining _that_to me," she said pointing at one of my open dresser drawers. "Or that," directing my attention to my knocked over mattress. "_Or _that." she said again pointing at a large hole in my closet wall each spot reveling my shit load of drugs, liquor, joints, cigarettes, hell, anything you can think of, I had it. _Shit, shit, SHIT._

"What about it?" I scoffed walking right past her removing my clothes tossing them carelessly on the floor.

"Um, how about why the _hell _you have drugs stashed in _my _house after I specifically told you _last_ night _and_ the night before _and_ the night before I wouldn't stand for it!" She yelled.

"Yah, well it looks like you're standing pretty fine there to me," I smirked rummaging trough my empty closet for something to throw on. "And plus, why the _hell _are you going through my stuff?" I snapped finding myself towering over her.

"Because I told you I was going to bust your ass, and the sooner the better!" She yelled receiving a glare from me. She sighed before continuing. "Dammit Duncan," she spat looking up at me. "Why can't you just listen to me for once!" She begged more than demanded shoving me backwards, her hands cold against my bare chest. "Day after day I try my hardest to get along with you, to help you through this grief that's _obviously_ _killing_ you, but you just won't let me help you," she began to allow tears to run down her face, and trust me I'm not the person you wanna break down in front of, I just can't handle that kinda shit. "Why do you do this? I mean can't you see if you keep it up it's gonna kill you."

"I don't care, and I sure as _hell_ know you don't either so can we just _drop_ it" I told her.

"Of _course_ you do," she began to yell again. "You choose this shit Duncan, you along with me know it's drastically affecting you. I just don't-"

"Shut the _fuck_ up alright! I don't need this _bullshit_ you're throwing at me _okay_? I-I just don't," I trailed off, grabbing a 'Smashing Pumpkins' shirt (yah I know they suck, but I've always like their song Bullet with Butterfly Wings, you know the one on that gay ass whale show?) off the ground and trying to make my way out the door, until I felt her tiny hand try to constrict around my bicep.

"Where do you think you're going? I'm _not _done with you!" She tried stopping me, but I outnumbered her in size _and _strength easily ripping my and out of her grip, which knock her out of balance.

"None of your damn business and I'm done with _you_!" I shouted gritting my teeth.

"In case you haven't noticed, EVERYTHING YOU DO IS MY BUSINESS!" She screamed shoving me as hard as she could, which lead to me losing my balance fallin' on my ass. That was when our argument turned into a full out fistfight. I quickly got off the ground and slamming her up against the wall obviously leaving her in pain and scared shitless.

"Now you listen and you listen fuckin' good!" I warned. "Just because my mother is dead doesn't mean you can step up and tell me what I can and can't fuckin' _do_. 'Cause in case _you _haven't noticed I don't listen to nobody no matter _who _they are!" I said slamming her harder against the wall. "Do you fuckin' understand me?" I spat my hand constricting tighter around her neck. She coward in fear under my grasp, like I actually was gonna hurt her, which I was just about to do until I heard my bedroom door slam open.

"What the _hell _is wrong with you?" I quickly spun around to catch a quick glimpse of what looked like Courtney shoving me hard on to ground. When I was finally able to see straight I looked over to see what _was _Courtney comforting my aunt like she hand just went through some near death experience, oh yah, she did: _me_.

"Duncan, what the _hell _is wrong with you?" She repeated herself. "How is it that even _you _would stoop so low as to try to harm the only person left on this God for saken planet who actually _cares _about you?" She yelled her hands curled into fists.

"How do _you _like to be the victim?" She said kicking me in the gut knocking the wind out of me. "How do you like to be pushed around and neglected, doesn't feel so good now does it?" She raised her hand about to strike me again making me flinch, but stopped. "No," she said. "No, I'm not going to stoop as low as _you_ and hurt you because I'm better than that,'" she said her voice instantly turning calm.

"Yah," I said. "'Cause knocking the wind outta me is _totally _civilized," I glared at her as she returned the look walking back over to my aunt to check on her. I still continued to glare at her, threw myself on to my feet, brushed past the two sitting on the floor in _my _room, and slammed the door behind me making my way out the front door, in nothing, but my boxers.

I made sure I trampled on most of the leaves completely covering the front lawn as I made my way to my car. _Damn, it was fuckin' cold out. _I remembered thinking as I jimmied the lock to my trunk removing an extra pair of clothes I put in there. _Note to self: always carry around an extra pair of clothes when you're a druggie, you never know when you're gonna need 'em. _I began to throw on a 'Cheap Trick' shirt (again, another shitty band, but when you don't ask for anything for Christmas you get stuck with shitty shirts and tacky ass lamps) when I noticed one of the neighbors starring at me from his mailbox. Yah, what a sight: a druggie putting on clothes. Hurry, go find a video camera and put it on fuckin' _youtube_. It'll make millions I guarantee ya. I rolled my eyes at him.

"Yo, man if watchin' me dress outside _really _turns you on then why don't you go fuck off somewhere that's _not _anywhere near me. Fuckin' perv…" the dude flipped me off, what a shocker, not like I cared if the neighbors liked me or not as soon as I turned eighteen I was outta this dump. I sighed. Thirteen more months left of this hell…

* * *

**_Courtney - _**

It was part of routine to check in on Leigh Ann and Duncan at least once a week to make sure they haven't killed each other yet. I swear if it wasn't for someone responsible like me Duncan would have literally killed her by now.

I parked my car in front of their jungle of a front yard. I swear it had to have been at _least _a year since it was mowed last. I cautiously stepped out of my car making sure to lock the doors behind me, never being comfortable in Duncan's neighborhood considering he lived on the bad side of town. I somehow managed to walk through the yard dodging the broken beer bottles, chairs, and other household items that _didn't _belong in a yard, when I walked up to the front door, and rapped on it twice. Not hearing a response I jiggled the door knob to see the door was open. I swear if I lived in this area my doors would _always _be locked.

I proceeded inside to only hear shouting coming from below me. _What was he up to this time..._I could only think as I walked over to the basement door, and pressed my ear up against the cold wood. I wasn't able to make out anything they were shouting about, but I knew whatever it was, it wasn't good...I decided not to interfere until I heard a loud, shrill, pain-filled cry, and something in me snapped as I burst through the doors.

Once the door was open I had a perfect view of my childhood friend nearly strangling his guardian to death. Words couldn't describe the sight I was seeing. All I was able to say was a very unintelligent "What the _hell _is wrong with you?" receiving surprised looks from the both of them as I ran up to my so called 'best friend,' shoving him to the ground, and helping up his petrified aunt.

"Duncan," I called to him. "What the hell is wrong with you?" I repeated appalled by his actions. "How is it that even _you _would stoop so low as to try to harm the only person left on this God for saken planet who actually _cares _about you?" I yelled standing up, and curling my hands into fists.

"How do _you _like to be the victim?" I spat stomping over to him, and kicking him in he stomach knocking the wind completely out of him. "How do you like to be pushed around and neglected, doesn't feel so good now does it?" I raised my hand ready to strike again making him flinch, but stopped. "No," I said. "No, I'm not going to stoop as low as _you_ and hurt you because I'm better than that,'" I explained calming myself once I realised how badly I had gotten out of control.

"Yah," he hissed. "'Cause knocking the wind outta me is _totally _civilized," I glared at him as he returned the look before I started to walk back over to Leigh Ann, checking on her. Still feeling his eyes glaring at my from behind, I continued to ignore him as he stood up, brushed himself off, spat some type of profanity my way for stepping in, and slammed the door behind him in nothing, but his underwear. _Ogre..._

I watched as he appeared outside throwing a pathetic tantrum on the front lawn, breaking into the back of his car, and bickering at one of the neighbors. I rolled my eyes. I was really getting sick of his games.

Trying to forget about his presence I looked down at Leigh Ann, though I never really liked her she didn't deserve to be treated like shit. "A-are you okay?" I asked her showing a small smile as I helped her off the ground.

She sighed. "I don't know what I'm going to do with him..." She didn't say anything more, but knew exactly what she meant.

"It's okay," I assured her. "Everything is going to turn out."

"No...no it's not. He's broken, and there's no fixing this." She said filling me in on what had happened in the past twenty-four hours. Still listening to her I stared emotionless out the window watching him in the middle of yet another tantrum, slamming his fist into a tree, and dropping to the ground. Even from here I could tell he was crying.

I put my hand on her shoulder. "There is, but neither of you are going to like it." I told her. She looked up at me confused awaiting me to continue. "You _do _have the Police Stations number right? I think we need to tell them we found their criminal."

* * *

**_Duncan - _**

I sat alone under one of the only standing tree in my yard with a throbbing hand, a major migraine, and a troubled mind. How does this kind of shit always end up happening to me? Things weren't _always _this terrible at least when _she_ was around they weren't...

* * *

_"This is fuckin' ridiculous." I hissed at my mom smacking my forehead in embarrassment. She was standing behind me, holding my shoulders, making googly eyes at the monkey suit she picked out for me._

_"Are you kidding me? Honey, you look so handsome."_

_"Yah, maybe if I was tyin' the knot…" I mumbled._

_"Now why do you always have to be so negative? I think you look very nice. Doesn't he?" She asked the clerk who was helping us pick out a suit for my Bar Mitzvah, not that I wanted one, but when your mother is the biggest fuckin' Jew in __town then of course you're gonna get an all out party you didn't even ask for._

_"Oh, of course he does!" The clerk exclaimed obviously agreeing with my pigheaded mother so she could make an easy sale. I rolled my eyes. _

_"You see hon, what did I tell you?"_

_"Sure, sure your always right, but I thought I told you I-" The bitch clerk cut me off._

_"Yes sir you do look very dashing in that," I glared at her, but she continued. "Um, it, uhh, brings out your…eyes!" She smiled a dumb ass smile. I raised an eyebrow at her. It's not like she could say it really brings out your piercings, or your mohawk._

_I looked at myself in the mirror again. I looked beyond ridiculous, and I wasn't like I looked bad, I actually looked okay, but I was that it didn't feel right on. I probably had the most expensive looking tuxedo on that you've ever seen before, but it didn't match the multiple piercings I had in my face, my hair, or my personality. I screamed 'bad boy' and the tux, well, it screamed 'mommy's boy'. And that's when it struck me: I was never really gonna fit into the real world._

_"Were going," I ordered taking off the tux, balling it up, and chucking it at the clerk. I walked into my changing room and slammed the door behind me nearly ripping the door off its hinges, my mom right on my trail dashing in behind me. I continued removing the suit throwing the pieces of it over the walls, screaming, and cussing until I was in nothing but the tie and my boxers. My mom backed up into the corner her hands protecting her face knowing to leave me be until I cooled down. I continued with my temperatuntrum running my fist into the brick wall, and screamed when I heard a loud snap. I quickly brought my hand back to my bare chest, cradling it hoping it would ease the pain, and slouched down against the wall, now hysterically crying._

_My mom walked over to me and crouched down bringing me into a warm embrace. I'll admit, I was glad to have her. She sat there and let me cry into her chest for what seemed like hours without saying a word. She eventually took my bloody, broken hand in hers and examined it. I ignored her until I heard her sigh._

_"You know, you really shouldn't do this to yourself. It kills me to see you in so much pain sweetie. If you didn't like this suit you could have just said that." I continued bawling not wanting to respond to her. "Duncan, honey, I'm sorry." She whispered running her hand through my hair. "I know your so lost right now I just don't know how to help. I'm really trying. I really am…" she trailed off leaning her cheek against my head._

_"Yah, I know ma," I sobbed._

_

* * *

_I lifted myself off the ground annoyed that my past was trying to screw with me, and marched off the lawn, and down the street refusing to look back. There was no way in _hell _that anyone was going to lock me up. If they really wanted to put my behind bars then they would have to come after me, and drag me into the back of a police car, because this time I _wasn't _gonna give up so easily.

**

* * *

**

A/N: Review.


	6. Not Giving Up

_**A/N: It's been a while. Here's chapter 6:

* * *

**_

Chapter 6:

Duncan -

I screamed instantly waking up in cold sweat realizing I was still in the bathroom from last night soaking my ass in the same pool of water. I let out a sigh of relief knowing that the hell I went through was just a dream, an extremely _realistic_ dream. I cautiously made my way out of the bathroom down the hall. When I noticed the house was still extremely empty I slowly opened my bedroom door to see my room completely torn apart and my aunt, arms crossed, pissed, staring daggers at me. _Shit. _

"The fuck is goin' on?" I asked trying to seem vicious, but my aunt's pissed off facial expression was still locked on me.

"I don't know Duncan, why don't you try explaining _that _to me," she said pointing at one of my open dresser drawers. "Or that," directing my attention to my knocked over mattress. "_Or _that." she said again pointing at a large hole in my closet wall each spot reveling my shit load of drugs, liquor, joints, cigarettes, hell, anything you can think of, I had it.

_Shit, shit, SHIT._

"What about it?" I scoffed walking right past her removing my clothes tossing them carelessly on the floor.

"Um, how about why the _hell _you have drugs stashed in _my _house after I specifically told you _last_ night _and_ the night before _and_ the night before I wouldn't stand for it!" She yelled.

"Yah, well it looks like you're standing pretty fine there to me," I smirked rummaging trough my empty closet for something to throw on. "And plus, why the _hell _are you going through my stuff?" I snapped finding myself towering over her.

"Because I told you I was going to bust your ass, and the sooner the better!" She yelled receiving a glare from me. She sighed before continuing. "Dammit Duncan," she spat looking up at me. "Why can't you just listen to me for once!" She begged more than demanded shoving me backwards, her hands cold against my bare chest. "Day after day I try my hardest to get along with you, to help you through this grief that's _obviously_ _killing_ you, but you just won't let me help you," she began to allow tears to run down her face, and trust me I'm not the person you wanna break down in front of, I just can't handle that kinda shit. "Why do you do this? I mean can't you see if you keep it up it's gonna kill you."

"I don't care, and I sure as _hell_ know you don't either so can we just _drop_ it" I told her.

"Of _course_ you do," she began to yell again. "You choose this shit Duncan, you along with me know it's drastically affecting you. I just don't-"

"Shut the _fuck_ up alright! I don't need this _bullshit_ you're throwing at me _okay_? I-I just don't," I trailed off, grabbing a 'Smashing Pumpkins' shirt (I know they suck, but I've always like their song Bullet with Butterfly Wings, you know the one on that gay ass whale show) off the ground and trying to make my way out the door, until I felt her tiny hand try to constrict around my bicep.

"Where do you think you're going? I'm _not _done with you!" She tried stopping me, but I outnumbered her in size _and _strength easily ripping my and out of her grip, which knock her out of balance.

"None of your damn business and I'm done with _you_!" I shouted gritting my teeth.

"In case you haven't noticed, EVERYTHING YOU DO IS MY BUSINESS!" She screamed shoving me as hard as she could, which lead to me losing my balance fallin' on my ass. That was when our argument turned into a full out fistfight. I quickly got off the ground and slamming her up against the wall obviously leaving her in pain and scared shitless.

"Now you listen and you listen fuckin' good!" I warned. "Just because my mother is dead doesn't mean you can step up and tell me what I can and can't fuckin' _do_. 'Cause in case _you _haven't noticed I don't listen to nobody no matter _who _they are!" I said slamming her harder against the wall. "Do you fuckin' understand me?" I spat my hand constricting tighter around her neck. She coward in fear under my grasp, like I actually was gonna hurt her, which I was just about to do until I heard my bedroom door slam open.

"What the _hell _is wrong with you?" I quickly spun around to catch a quick glimpse of what looked like Courtney shoving me hard on to ground. When I was finally able to see straight I looked over to see what _was _Courtney comforting my aunt like she hand just went through some near death experience, oh yah, she did: _me_.

"Duncan, what the _hell _is wrong with you?" She repeated herself. "How is it that even _you _would stoop so low as to try to harm the only person left on this God for saken planet who actually _cares _about you?" She yelled her hands curled into fists.

"How do _you _like to be the victim?" She said kicking me in the gut knocking the wind out of me. "How do you like to be pushed around and neglected, doesn't feel so good now does it?" She raised her hand about to strike me again making me flinch, but stopped. "No," she said. "No, I'm not going to stoop as low as _you_ and hurt you because I'm better than that,'" she said her voice instantly turning calm.

"Yah," I said. "'Cause knocking the wind outta me is _totally _civilized," I glared at her as she returned the look walking back over to my aunt to check on her. I still continued to glare at her, threw myself on to my feet, brushed past the two sitting on the floor in _my _room, and slammed the door behind me making my way out the front door, in nothing, but my boxers.

I made sure I trampled on most of the leaves completely covering the front lawn as I made my way to my car. _Damn, it was fuckin' cold out. _I remembered thinking as I jimmied the lock to my trunk removing an extra pair of clothes I put in there.

_Note to self: always carry around an extra pair of clothes when you're a druggie, you never know when you're gonna need 'em. _

I began to throw on a 'Cheap Trick' shirt (again, another shitty band, but when you don't ask for anything for Christmas you get stuck with shitty shirts and tacky ass lamps) when I noticed one of the neighbors starring at me from his mailbox. Yah, what a sight: a druggie putting on clothes. Hurry, go find a video camera and put it on fuckin' _youtube_. It'll make millions I guarantee ya. I rolled my eyes at him.

"Yo, man if watchin' me dress outside _really _gets you off then why don't you try hiding it better, so I don't have to see it. Fuckin' perv…" I spat as I began to zip up my pants. The dude ended up lecturing me then flipped me off, what a shocker, not like I cared if the neighbors liked me or not as soon as I turned eighteen I was outta this dump. I sighed. Thirteen more months left of this hell…

_**

* * *

**_

Courtney -

It was part of routine to check in on Leigh Ann and Duncan at least once a week to make sure they haven't killed each other yet. I swear if it wasn't for someone responsible like me Duncan would have literally killed her by now.

I parked my car in front of their jungle of a front yard. I swear it had to have been at _least _a year since it was mowed last. I cautiously stepped out of my car making sure to lock the doors behind me, never being comfortable in Duncan's neighborhood considering he lived on the bad side of town. I somehow managed to walk through the yard dodging the broken beer bottles, chairs, and other household items that _didn't _belong in a yard, when I walked up to the front door, and rapped on it twice. Not hearing a response I jiggled the door knob to see the door was open. I swear if I lived in this area my doors would _always _be locked.

I proceeded inside to only hear shouting coming from below me. '_What was he up to this time...' _I could only think as I walked over to the basement door, and pressed my ear up against the cold wood. I wasn't able to make out anything they were shouting about, but I knew whatever it was, it wasn't good...I decided not to interfere until I heard a loud, shrill, pain-filled cry, and something in me snapped as I burst through the doors.

Once the door was open I had a perfect view of my childhood friend nearly strangling his guardian to death. Words couldn't describe the sight I was seeing. All I was able to say was a very unintelligent "What the _hell _is wrong with you?" receiving surprised looks from the both of them as I ran up to my so called 'best friend,' shoving him to the ground, and helping up his petrified aunt.

"Duncan," I called to him. "What the hell is wrong with you?" I repeated appalled by his actions. "How is it that even _you _would stoop so low as to try to harm the only person left on this God for saken planet who actually _cares _about you?" I yelled standing up, and curling my hands into fists.

"How do _you _like to be the victim?" I spat stomping over to him, and kicking him in he stomach knocking the wind completely out of him. "How do you like to be pushed around and neglected, doesn't feel so good now does it?" I raised my hand ready to strike again making him flinch, but stopped. "No," I said. "No, I'm not going to stoop as low as _you_ and hurt you because I'm better than that,'" I explained calming myself once I realised how badly I had gotten out of control.

"Yah," he hissed. "'Cause knocking the wind outta me is _totally _civilized," I glared at him as he returned the look before I started to walk back over to Leigh Ann, checking on her. Still feeling his eyes into the back of my head from behind, I continued to ignore him as he stood up, brushed himself off, spat some type of profanity my way for stepping in, and slammed the door behind him in nothing, but his underwear.

_Ogre..._

I watched as he appeared outside throwing a pathetic tantrum on the front lawn, breaking into the back of his car, and bickering at one of the neighbors. I rolled my eyes. I was really getting sick of his games.

Trying to forget about his presence I looked down at Leigh Ann, though I never really liked her she didn't deserve to be treated like shit. "A-are you okay?" I asked her showing a small smile as I helped her off the ground.

She sighed. "I don't know what I'm going to do with him..." She didn't say anything more, but knew exactly what she meant.

"It's okay," I assured her. "Everything is going to turn out."

"No...no it's not. He's broken, and there's no fixing this." She said filling me in on what had happened in the past twenty-four hours. Still listening to her I stared emotionlessly out the window watching him in the middle of yet another tantrum, slamming his fist into a tree, and dropping to the ground. Even from here I could tell he was crying.

I put my hand on her shoulder. "There is, but neither of you are going to like it." I told her. She looked up at me confused awaiting me to continue. "You _do _have the Police Stations number right? I think we need to tell them we found their criminal."

* * *

_**Duncan - **_

I sat alone under one of the only standing tree in my yard with a throbbing hand, a major migraine, and a troubled mind. How does this kind of shit always end up happening to me? Things weren't _always _this terrible at least when _she_ was around they weren't...

_"This is fuckin' ridiculous." I hissed at my mom smacking my forehead in embarrassment. She was standing behind me, holding my shoulders, making googly eyes at the monkey suit she picked out for me._

_"Are you kidding me? Honey, you look so handsome."_

_"Yah, maybe if I was tyin' the knot…" I mumbled._

_"Now why do you always have to be so negative? I think you look very nice. Doesn't he?" She asked the clerk who was helping us pick out a suit for my Bar Mitzvah, not that I wanted one, but when your mother is the biggest fuckin' Jew in town then of course you're gonna get an all out party you didn't even ask for._

_"Oh, of course he does!" The clerk exclaimed obviously agreeing with my pigheaded mother so she could make an easy sale. I rolled my eyes. _

_"You see hon, what did I tell you?"_

_"Sure, sure your always right, but I thought I told you I-" The bitch clerk cut me off._

_"Yes sir you do look very dashing in that," I glared at her, but she continued. "Um, it, uhh, brings out your…eyes!" She smiled a dumb ass smile. I raised an eyebrow at her. It's not like she could say it really brings out your piercings, or your mohawk._

_I looked at myself in the mirror again. I looked beyond ridiculous, and it wasn't like I looked bad, I actually looked okay, but I was that it didn't feel right on. I probably had the most expensive looking tuxedo on that you've ever seen before, but it didn't match the multiple piercings I had in my face, my hair, or my personality. I screamed 'bad boy' and the tux, well, it screamed 'mommy's boy,' and that wasn't what I was going to be known as._

_"Were going," I ordered taking off the tux, balling it up, and chucking it at the clerk. I walked into my changing room and slammed the door behind me nearly ripping the door off its hinges, my mom right on my trail dashing in behind me. I continued removing the suit throwing the pieces of it over the walls, screaming, and cussing until I was in nothing but the tie and my boxers. My mom backed up into the corner her hands protecting her face knowing to leave me be until I cooled down. I continued with my temper tantrum running my fist into the brick wall, and screamed when I heard a loud snap. I quickly brought my hand back to my bare chest, cradling it hoping it would ease the pain, and slouched down against the wall, now hysterically crying._

_My mom walked over to me and crouched down bringing me into a warm embrace. I'll admit, I was glad to have her. She sat there and let me cry into her chest for what seemed like hours without saying a word. She eventually took my bloody, broken hand in hers and examined it. I ignored her until I heard her sigh._

_"You know, you really shouldn't do this to yourself. It kills me to see you in so much pain sweetie. If you didn't like this suit you could have just said that." I continued bawling not wanting to respond to her. "Duncan, honey, I'm sorry." She whispered running her hand through my hair. "I know your so lost right now I just don't know how to help. I'm really trying. I really am…" she trailed off leaning her cheek against my head._

_"Yah, I know ma," I sobbed._

I lifted myself off the ground annoyed that my past was trying to screw with me, and marched off the lawn, and down the street refusing to look back. There was no way in _hell _that anyone was going to lock me up. If they really wanted to put my behind bars then they would have to come after me, and drag me into the back of a police car because this time I _wasn't _gonna give up so easily.

* * *

_**A/N: Review please.**_


End file.
